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divinegrey · 5 months
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rewatching arcane 🤭
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divinegrey · 5 months
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Do you think you’ll ever write for Valorant again, or has that ship sailed for you.?
tbh i think the valorant ship has long since sailed for me. the lore around it is really flimsy and i don't have a lot to go off of for writing. also i don't even play it anymore since it gave me such bad anxiety it permanently elevated my heartrate HSJDF
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divinegrey · 5 months
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I'm on my Valorant bullshit again. And every time this happens, I re-read everything on your blog. <3 I love your Viper so much.
omgggg thank you sm for this, i always love hearing about y'all reading my lil stories over and over, it really means a lot!!!
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divinegrey · 5 months
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grey…we DO miss you !
AW WAIT I WASNT EXPECTING THIS
i miss yall too!! im really hoping arcane s2 kicks me in the nuts so i can write more because i did love interacting and making things for you lil critters
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divinegrey · 5 months
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why the fuck did so many of y'all like this where did you guys COME FROM
so when arcane season 2 drops is basically when i’ll be revived see y’all next year
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divinegrey · 6 months
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so when arcane season 2 drops is basically when i’ll be revived see y’all next year
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divinegrey · 7 months
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Ackh I saw the Viper x Atlas stuff through a mutual’s repost. I saw the requests closed and your recent issues when I came to scroll your page, very sorry if the request added pressure to you.
I hope you’re doing ok, and that you know your writing has made lots of people very happy. Writing as good as yours is rare to come across, and the fics you’ve put out have brightened the days of hundreds, even if it’s only for a bit. That’s an incredible thing.
ah no worries! i've been quite awol as of late, but i've just been incredibly busy with life. been thinking about opening my prompts back up to include the ladies of bg3 and nami from the one piece live action (emily rudd <3<3) but not sure if yall would be in for that. honestly i was just surprised you were still interested in seeing a conclusion for their story! i left it pretty open-ended. thanks for coming by, and thank you for the sweet words :)
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divinegrey · 1 year
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hi yes i know it’s been a while and i don’t usually ask for shit like this but can y’all put good vibes into the universe today my dad could use it 🙏🏻
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divinegrey · 1 year
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hope you're doing good grey :]
im doing alright <3 thank you anon !!! hope ur doing well too!!!
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divinegrey · 1 year
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ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀᴄ / ꜰᴀᴅᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
well. i got thrown into a spiral because i saw a fanart on twitter and wrote a piece based off of it. please check out the art here and send the artist some kudos, it's a brilliant piece.
btw i did not beta read this so if you see mistakes no you didn't ok bye!
prompt: fade has nightmares she cannot wake up from. you're there to break her out of it.
words: 1800
warnings: mentions of nightmares, angst and comfort, dad cypher
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It’s not uncommon for you to be up at the odd hours of the night. You’re one of the few people at the Protocol who simply functions that way— you’re a necessity for the night shift, always available for the emergency missions that call for the total cover of darkness. You’re much like your mentor, Cypher, in that sense. It’s always you and him in the camera room, him tinkering his trips and you working on your traps. 
So, it’s also not uncommon for you and him to walk back to your rooms together once your time in the wee hours of the night have concluded. Tonight is a night like any other, moving quietly down the hallway. The dorms are quiet, with most of the agents asleep or away on longer missions. It’s peaceful. 
That is, until you hear the sound of what appears to be muffled… whimpering? No, that can’t be right. Though Cypher keeps walking, you pause, staring at the door— you’re passing the Initiator hallway to get to the Sentinel dorms, and the owner of the room behind the door is none other than Fade.
Cypher too stops in his steps. You look at him as you always do, silently seeking an explanation. He sighs, shaking his head. The orbital sockets of his mask widen, before he walks over to the door, pressing his palm to the reader. You’re about to mention that his hand shouldn’t work, before the front face of the palm reader flips up to reveal a keypad— you’re grateful for your vision in the dimly lit hallway. 209375, a number that you can’t think of to mean anything— perhaps one randomly generated, knowing Cypher’s preference to attach no emotion to passwords. 
The door opens, and Cypher steps inside the room. You quickly follow, waiting in the doorframe to see Cypher sit down on the bed. Beneath a single sheet with shadows dancing on the walls, Fade squirms, deep in the throes of what is very clearly a nightmare. 
Cypher murmurs, head bowed, “She hardly ever sleeps well. Always troubled, this one. I can tell.” 
You frown, watching Fade grip Cypher’s hand once he extends it, even as deep in sleep as she is. He strokes her knuckles, bare-handed, an honor for you and for Fade, it seems. Gloves are his thing. 
“There is nothing we can do but hope she wakes up,” says Cypher, laying Fade’s hand in his lap. He places it against his forehead, whispering something in Arabic to her. He steps away, tucking the blanket over Fade. Cypher walks past you, and you shut the door. Cypher takes a moment, then sighs. “She will wake up. Her mental fortitude outmatches both you and I.” 
Though you wish to ask more, ask how to help, you find yourself speechless for the time being. Cypher begins moving, so you do the same. 
But you look over your shoulder one last time, to the shadows that creep beneath Fade’s door. 
— — —
The nights are even quieter without Cypher around. His presence was required for an overnight mission somewhere in the streets of Portugal, following up on a lead with Sova and Harbor. It leaves you making the rounds by yourself, stifling a yawn into your hand. 
Once again, as you pass through the Initiator hallway, there’s that quiet groaning and whimpering from beyond Fade’s door. Fade is in there, all alone and by herself. You understand Fade’s tendencies as a loner, but still— no one should have to be alone when they’re suffering a nightmare. You’ve gone to Cypher more times than you can count, of course he would look after Fade too. 
Without hesitation, you go to the palm reader. Sure, your hand might not do the same thing, but the mechanism for the reading was awfully familiar. Too much time watching Cypher play with his toys has lead you to a keen intuition; just the right amount of pressure and—
Pop!
You punch in the code— 209375— and slip inside, the locking mechanism sliding back into place. Fade is curled up on the bed, her back to you and her hands clenched around her head. Shadows mixed with red tendrils creep on the walls, sliding toward your feet with a coldness that sends goosebumps over your arms. You swear you hear whispers; the Nightmare communing with you, maybe, in a language you do not understand. 
It does little to deter you. Cypher had warned you, days after you witnessed him comfort Fade in her sleep. She cannot wake up the same way you and I do.
Fuck that. 
Fuck that. 
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You’re going to try, at least, because no one should suffer alone. 
You kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath your weight. Your hand on Fade’s shoulder does little, save for the shadows that snake up your arm, circling your wrist to keep it pinned to her. 
“Fade, I’m right here,” you say, moving closer. She shakes, crying out— even in her sleep, her hand moves to cover her mouth, drowning out the sounds of pain as if the demon in her mind is hurting her physically. Her body twitches, the same movements after being struck by bullets. You swallow the dryness in your throat, pushing on. “Fade— Hazal, if you can hear me, I’m right here. I’m not leaving until you’re awake.” 
A whimper. The movements subside, only for a moment, before the shadows in the room grow, angered. The coldness around your wrist burns. 
“Hazal, you’re not alone,” you say, your voice teetering on a whisper that is still louder than the ones echoing in your mind. “The Nightmare can’t hurt you. Not here. Not with me.” 
Fade’s eyes shoot open, her body twisting upward. Shadows pour from her eyes, leaking down like blood that leaves nary a trace on her pale skin, the irises of both her eyes a shade of red that glows crimson in the dark. She scrambles to get a hold of you and you do the same, wrapping your arms around her as fast as you can, anchoring her back to reality. 
She’s limp, her body aching and tired from the nightmares that still have her in their grips. You cup the back of her head, stroking the sweat-damp hair. 
When you first met her, you were beyond terrified of her shadows, of the Nightmares she brought to life from her fingers. 
Now?
They hardly scare you at all. They’re fucking terrifying, but Fade’s safety is overwhelming— you tighten your grip on her, forcing her breathing to center from the panicked hyperventilation into a slow, steady rhythm. Her hands, weak on your waist, begin to twitch. 
“You’re almost done fighting, Hazal, and I’ll be here to catch you when you wake up. Just wake up, please,” you whisper, coldness sizzling down your back from the shadows that trickle down her cheeks and chin, the physical manifestation of the demons that haunt the corners of her room and her mind, ensnaring her sleep in their clawed hands. You exhale, warm breath on her ear, another plead, “Wake up, Hazal.” 
Hazal inhales a breath, and the darkness of the room fades, bearing way to light that had once been shrouded. A lamp illuminates the room, allowing you to see the deep gouges in the metal, made by something so very inhuman— near the bed on the wall, some on the floor, a gash on the ceiling. 
Her voice speaks, raspy and deep. “You shouldn’t be here.” 
And yet, Hazal grips your waist as if she’s terrified you’ll run away. 
“I promised I’d be here when you woke up,” you say, pulling your head back. Fade levels her eyes with you— normal, ragged and worn with sleep, but normal. She sighs, resting her forehead against yours. The closeness allows you to hear the pounding of her heart. Frantic, but alive and present. 
“You are an idiot,” says Hazal, and you snort. “And yet, you woke me up. I heard you, from beyond the shadows, the same way I hear Cypher from time to time, but you… you pulled me out.” 
“Sometimes being an insomniac has some benefits,” you whisper, laughing softly. 
Hazal nods. “Don’t I know it.” She swallows, straightening up. Her hands are shaking as she pulls them away. She’s hesitant to meet your eyes. “You can leave now, if you wish.” 
“Nah, I think I’m gonna crash here for the night,” you reply. There’s a smile on your face when Hazal looks up, the tiniest shard of hope. You bump your shoulder gently to hers. “If that’s alright with you, Bountyhunter.” 
“Give me five minutes to shower and change the sheets,” Hazal says, standing up from the bed. But, as she does, she stumbles. You grab her by her hips, steadying her. A grateful nod from her, and she goes on. As she showers in the conjoining bathroom, you change the sheets, quickly and easily, leaving no room for error. 
Hazal returns, freshly washed, to you in pajamas that are distinctly not your own, but she doesn’t put up a fight, nor does she comment on it beside the slight tug on the black boxers, a subtle smile on her face. You crawl into bed with her, content with the warm light of the lamp keeping the room shielded from the night. 
She appears hesitant, eyes flickering back and forth from the ceiling and you. 
“Can I—?” 
“Of course,” you say, opening your arms. “I was hoping you’d ask.” 
Without further question, Hazal tucks herself into your arms— it’s a new side of her that you’ve seen, a secret known only by you, her, and the moon shining through the window. She lets out a long exhale into your chest, finally, finally relaxing all of her muscles that had been tense only moments before, sinking into your embrace. 
“Nightmares ain’t got shit against me,” you say, getting a muffled snort from her. “I’ll be here. Any night you need me.” 
Hazal breaks your brain in the form of a kiss pressed against your collarbone. “And for that, I am grateful. Thank you.” 
“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Cypher’s going to be pissed that I broke the locks to get in.” 
— — —
The door to the room creaks open; you’re awake, you have been all night making sure Hazal has slept, and slept she has, soundly and without a single twitch in your arms. You turn your head to the entrance. 
Cypher stands there with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looks over you, then Fade, and simply shakes his head with amusement shining in the orbitals of his mask. He raises his cup to you. “Proud of you, habibi. Do keep her safe.” 
“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” you reply, running your hands through her hair. Cypher closes the door, cloaking the room in silence. You turn your eyes to the sun just beginning to rise through the window, and smile. 
You can rest now; you think you deserve it, after all, and rest you do, comfortable with the warmth of Hazal molded to your body, sleeping without a single shadow of darkness. 
~~~~~ A/N: thanks for reading!!! make sure to go appreciate the artwork linked at the top, and see you next time!
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divinegrey · 1 year
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𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮 / 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙭 𝙜𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
inspired by sage and her iconic butterfly knife moment in the new cinematic. enjoy you thirsty animals
prompt: while sitting in the common area doing reports, you can't help but take notice to sage's skill with her butterfly knife
words: 1200
warnings: light spice, omega earth sage being dommy mommy, omen being omen
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You have an issue. 
It’s incredibly difficult to get anything done when Sage is in the room. Ordinarily, you’d have no problem working alongside the healer to get the massive stack of reports done, but when she’s doing that every second, it’s causing little to get done on your end. 
One might ask what is she doing?
You glance up from your tablet, hearing the sharp schink! as Sage flips out her butterfly knife, twirling it between her fingers with a practiced ease that is oh so casual. She’s not even looking at it, too engrossed in reading a report you’d just finished a few moments ago. Internally, you cringe; the report is likely bad by her standards because Sage’s knife has been attractively distracting. 
You look back down and keep typing, inhaling a breath of the recycled oxygen that comes through the vents of the common room. No such thing as fresh oxygen these days. The supply of Radianite here leaves little room for any advancement, hence the Protocol going out to get more. 
If only our copies would stop getting in the way, you think to yourself. 
Sccccchink! Sage’s knife brings your eyes back up, her fingers nimbly avoiding the sharp edge as she flips and twists it over her knuckles, doing complicated combos that must’ve taken hours to perfect. Of course, Sage would know how to do the advanced moves— if there’s anyone who could, it would be her. 
“Something the matter?” Sage’s voice cuts through the noise of the vents cycling through. Immediately, you shake your head, looking back down at the tablet to fill out the rest of the section you’d been working on, detailing a successful spike mission, but it’s even harder to focus on that when you know Sage is looking at you. Curiosity lines her eyes, and you pretend the flush on your cheeks is because you’re wearing a comfy hoodie. 
Temporarily persuaded, Sage goes back to her little knife tricks, leaving a swarm of butterflies in your stomach every time you look up at her. Every so often (maybe too often), Sage catches you looking. You can’t help yourself— Sage’s strength and confidence has always been one of the primary reasons you like her so much, as a person and as a leader. 
And as something more, dipshit. 
Being alone with her in the common room isn’t exactly helping your wandering mind, either. If only Jett were here; she would be ruthlessly teasing the shit out of you right about now. 
Sage stands up abruptly, twirling her knife still in her hand as she walks over to you. The butterflies in your tummy intensify by tenfold. 
“Curious?” Sage asks, flipping the knife in her hand before throwing it into the air. It spins in circles before landing in her palm, closed and shut. You nod once, hoping your enthusiasm doesn’t show too much in front of her. Sage drops down onto the couch beside you, making you sit up a little straighter. Yet, she’s all too casual with the way she leans back and starts showing off again. 
She’s indulging, you realize. Sage hardly ever shows off. 
“It’s really cool,” you say, holding your tablet to your chest. “I would cut my hand off if I tried doing that.” 
“It takes practice,” Sage replies, before looking at you with a slight smirk. “Plus some dexterity. It’s hard to do tricks if your fingers can’t keep with the pace.” 
You’re not sure if she was actually insinuating something more with that, but your face burns up anyway. Sage laughs, flipping her knife into the open position before turning her body towards yours. The tip of her knife comes to rest on your chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes. 
“I could teach you,” Sage murmurs, “If you’re willing to learn. You need patience, practice… flexibility.” 
You swallow, forcing out a small laugh that feels incredibly awkward. “I don’t feel like we’re talking about the knife anymore.” 
Sage flips the knife closed after withdrawing it, the sound a loud click that feels akin to making a final decision. The healer tilts her head to the side. “Are we?” 
You notice her eyes dip down to your lips, and you take your chances. 
Sage meets you halfway for a kiss, the thought of reports and papers all but abandoned as you meld yourself with her. At some point, you make the ballsy decision to straddle her on the couch, caging her in with your arms. Kissing her is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, ever experienced— it’s something that opens your eyes, a faint coldness to her lips reminding you of the way her healing orbs feel like the cool ocean water over your skin. 
She seems pleased by this result, and honestly? So are you. 
Though it might seem that you have the upper hand and upper position, Sage makes it clear she’s controlling the pace, her hands on your chin to stop you from getting too greedy with it. She forces it slower, until all you truly feel are the worn callouses from years spent shooting a rifle and the heartbeat that thunders in your chest and in hers. 
The switch is flipped; Sage pushes you back onto the flat length of the couch, holding your hands above your head with only one of hers. It leaves you struggling to breath as your eyes meet. Something burns in her irises. 
“I see you watching,” Sage whispers, flipping her knife open. She drags the flat of the blade along your shirt, not nearly enough pressure for it to be threatening, but the motion of it leaves your core aching. “I see you staring when I’m training. Is there something you want? Say it.” 
You thought you hadn’t been so obvious— maybe you were, if Jett noticed. Maybe you were being obvious by standing near the windows that peer into the training room whenever Sage was in there working out her anger and her stress, marveling over her form and her fighting and her body and her—
Stop it. 
Sage’s warm breath tickles your cheek. “Say it.” 
You swallow your pride for the easiest sentence you’ve ever said. 
“I want you.” 
The corner of Sage’s mouth turns up. She kisses you, softer than the rest, and this one feels only a thousand times more intense with the weight of her body on yours. You wish you could reach for her, wish you could touch her and kiss her all over—
The door to the common room opens. Before Sage can pull away, both of you turn to see Omen standing there, holding his beloved bonsai tree in both hands as if cupping a bowl. He looks at you, then Sage, the slits of his eyes pulsing. Omen looks down at his bonsai. 
“Not a word, Omen, and I’ll buy you the bonsai scissors you want,” Sage says, sitting up and pulling you along with her. You’re a mess right now, and it’s only a little embarrassing that Omen is seeing you like this. 
Pleased by the development, Omen places his bonsai down at the table and takes a seat. Sage winks at you, stepping off the couch and taking her tablet to join him. 
You’re left on the couch staring at the ceiling with the thought of what the fuck just happened?
~~~~~ A/N: ehehe top sage brain go brrrrr
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divinegrey · 1 year
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𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙨 / 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙭 𝙛!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
welcome to my first writing post of 2023! i was feeling better and also was inspired by the cinematic + some tiktoks so here's some sage content! might do more in the future if im up for it :) happy new year everyone!
prompt: while you're trying to avoid her, sage finds you. things happen ;)
words: 1200
warnings: slight spice, mentions of sub/dom dynamics, use of honorific titles, sage being dommy mommy battle sage
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There’s something to be said about the way you’re extraordinarily good at avoiding people. Now, you’re doing it because you’re avoiding them— you’re doing it because you’re trying to avoid one person in particular. 
That person would be none other than the Protocol’s resident second-in-command and primary healer, Sage. 
A reasonable question to ask now would be what exactly did you do to want to avoid her?
A valid question!
One you’re currently not at liberty to answer. You’re too busy trying to watch the latest episode of a TV show in the living room of the Protocol before training starts. You’re on deck with the other duelists for a good ol’ duelist-only training session, lead by Sova, funny enough. He is one of the best coaches, and one of the nicer ones. 
You tilt your head at the screen of your laptop, sitting on the table in front of you with your earbuds plugged in. The plot makes no sense, what the fuck did they do to this? It’s a little ridiculous how badly the writers have screwed over the plotline for this season— the characters are just so all over the place, it’s a disgrace. There are so many things you change about this if you could just—
Being so entrenched in your show, you hardly notice a certain sentinel walking up to the other side of the table. Her hand moves smoothly to the top of your laptop before pushing the screen down and shut. 
The cinematic music from the show comes to a dead stop, and leaves you only with the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your eyes slide up to meet Sage’s gaze, finding her warm brown eyes looking anything but happy to see you. Quickly, you glance around, finding you to be the only one in the room. 
Where the fuck did everyone go?
Sage keeps her hand on your laptop, her ring shining in the light. With her hand in place, she walks to the adjacent side of the table, putting her other hand on her hip. She’s in her full battle gear— her white robes are clean pressed and folded primly, her right over the left. There’s something about seeing her in her gear that makes you a little warm under the collar. 
(You know why. It’s fucking attractive.)
You make a show of glancing down at your wrist (bare) before moving to stand up from your seat. “Well, look at that, I have to go to training—” 
Sage’s hand moves in the blink of an eye to your shoulder, where she shoves you back down into the chair. You go down with a solid thump. 
Shit. 
“You’ve been excused from training,” Sage says, a tone to her voice that sends shivers down your spine. Her fingers squeeze into the meat of shoulder, a tense spot only she knows of due to her extensive time massaging out the kinks from hours spent in the infirmary with her. You try to restrain a sound, but it leaves your mouth against your will anyway. 
Sage merely raises her eyebrow. 
“Emergency spike retrieval. We leave in 15 minutes,” Sage says. 
You hardly have time to say a word before Sage moves again, throwing her leg over your lap and sitting down. Her hand grips your jaw— her fingers, so soft and nimble, hold you in place. 
“Are you going to run off again, or have you learned your lesson?” Sage’s thumb moves back and forth over your bottom lip, and your face is flushed red with the raw surprise of Sage being so bold in the Protocol common area. 
See, the reason you’d been avoiding her is because you’re like any other duelist— you rush into danger with bullets in your gun and grit in your teeth. More often than not, you come back to her battered and bloody; that’s your job. 
Sage doesn’t like that, you being her… it doesn’t matter what you are to her. You’re hers, and she doesn’t enjoy seeing you in pain. Last mission you were on with her, things went a little sideways, which lead Sage becoming genuinely angry with you, and angry Sage is a hell of a lot to be scared of. 
You being you, there’s a tendency to avoid people who are angry with you.
Apparently, you’ve taken too long to respond, because Sage taps your cheek twice with her pointer finger to snap you back to attention. You blink at her, showing your attentiveness (or lack thereof), and Sage hums. 
“Focus. We only have a couple minutes before I need to send you off to the locker room,” says Sage, her voice covered in honey-sweet sugar that sends a shiver down your spine. “Are you going to listen to me, this time?” 
There’s nothing you can truly do but nod in this situation, staring into her eyes. Any thought of avoiding her ceases to exist— you give up, simply, when it comes to Ling Ying Wei and who she is. She’s pleased; you know this, by the small upturn at the corner of her mouth. Your hands are kept firmly by your side— you’re trained, you know this, you know what to do. 
“I won’t run off,” you murmur softly. 
Sage smiles. “Good girl.” 
Sage slides her other hand into your hair, gripping it as she brings you closer for a kiss, and oh, this is what you crave. You crave her, and you’re willing to give up every ounce of control for it, even if it means doing as you're told on the battlefield. Sage is akin to your handler, the one who can keep you disciplined, keep you compliant and docile in her hands. 
You wrap your arms around her waist, burying your hands into the various folds and flaps of her clothes to touch her. Maybe you’re greedy, but you don’t care; Sage came in with a mission, and you’re never one to turn it down. 
But Sage, the strong, wise Sage, always keeps you on your leash.
Her hand on your throat prevents you from kissing her any more. Her eyes are darker when she pulls away, and Sage clicks her tongue. 
“Don’t get handsy now, bǎo bèi, we have a mission to do,” Sage says, lowering her hand to the collar of your hoodie. She curls her fingers, yanking it to tug you close to her. She whispers, “And if you do as you’re told, you’ll be rewarded very handsomely.” 
Your eyes glimmer at the prospect of a reward from Sage. 
Sage tightens her grip. “What do you say?” 
“Yes, Mommy.” the words come out of your throat hardly louder than a whisper, but it’s enough for Sage. She gets up from your lap, adjusting her clothes until they look good as new. You’re left stunned, struggling to get up from the chair to go change into your gear. 
God, you love it here. 
~~~~~ A/N: welp, i wrote something. back to my depression hole! thanks for reading :)
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divinegrey · 1 year
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Early Christmas Grey! Fixed the spelling just for you
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i’ve had this in my inbox since september. merry christmas ya filthy animals i love y’all
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divinegrey · 1 year
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things are bad right now, it’s safe to say that this page is gonna be dark for a bit. i love you all, please take care of yourselves.
some things are happening in my family right now. for my own mental health, i’m gonna be going inactive for a little while until everything calms down. i apologize to those who have requests that i still haven’t written but i need to put myself first.
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divinegrey · 1 year
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some things are happening in my family right now. for my own mental health, i’m gonna be going inactive for a little while until everything calms down. i apologize to those who have requests that i still haven’t written but i need to put myself first.
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divinegrey · 1 year
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bottom reyna when???
oh honey, bottom reyna is my GOSPEL lets fucking GO
NSFW!!!
TASTY TOPPINGS | BOTTOM!REYNA X GN!READER
words: 1000 warnings: explicit 18+ content, minors dni. domme bottom reyna, mentions of implicit servitude, read at your own discretion.
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HEADCANONS
The statement "Reyna is a top" might be one of the most frequent statements you've heard being bandied around in the lounge room when everyone is too drunk to care about politeness. What else is there to talk about except the sex lives of your coworkers?
But you, being one of Reyna's frequent hookups... you know the full truth of it.
In the bedroom, Reyna is the pure definition of topping from the bottom. The woman is obsessed with chasing the feelings of pleasure and pain, both in her work and in the bedroom. Most would assume she's too controlling to allow herself to be touched.
In reality, it's quite the opposite. You're nothing more than a tool for Reyna's pleasure, to be used exactly how she wants it and when she wants it.
You're more than happy to do it. Reyna doesn't fuck just anyone in the Protocol. In fact, she's exceedingly picky about who gets to see her full beauty and greatness with their own two eyes. Lucky you!
Within the Protocol, you're the only person who's set foot into her room and into her bed. Let's just say you get the reward of a lifetime whenever you do your job in taking care of her.
There have been some moments with Reyna that you'll always remember, with a few in particular that never fail to make you hot in the cheeks.
SPICY HEADCANONS
One such instance was the first time you and Reyna hooked up. It was after a mission and the adrenaline surge was running high in your blood. Reyna looked near manic and feral with the amount of souls and energy she had consumed, and it seemed that she wanted something more out of it.
And so you became her willing victim. How are you going to say no to one of the prettiest (and most terrifying) women you've ever met in your life?
The moment you reached Reyna's room, you were being stripped of your armor and clothes, and you were moving to undo the straps of Reyna's protective gear before she shoved you back onto her bed.
"Listen closely, cariño," Reyna's voice was raspy with her whisper, her hand gripping your face. Your heart was pounding, and you knew she could hear it. Reyna's eyes were glowing, almost to an extreme, and you could feel a faint tingling from her hands pressing into your skin. "I gave you the honor of being in this room with me. You will not abuse that honor. You will do as you are told. Understood?"
All you could say in reply was a very soft "Yes, ma'am."
Lucky for you, Reyna was delighted by your obedience, and went on to make a show of removing her clothes. You didn't dare move an inch from your spot on your bed, and while Reyna moved, showing more and more of her skin, you felt your brain slipping somewhere else. Somewhere more... light.
You felt fuzzy all over. Whether this was an effect of Reyna or not, you didn't care. There was an overwhelming need to serve her, filling your bones with blistering hot arousal.
Finally, finally, Reyna took her seat on your face, her hand gripping your hair with her nails in your scalp, and the truth became realized.
You're nothing but a toy for Reyna's pleasure. Reyna takes, and she takes, and she takes until she is limp and shaking with pleasure. Your face is covered with her slick and though you can hardly breathe, you continue devouring her with the intent of a starving man on his knees at the altar of a god.
Reyna is a goddess, you find yourself thinking. I want to serve her. I want to be hers.
Reyna rode your face until she orgasmed, hot and heavy on your face with a full-body shudder that was followed by a profound release of energy.
It was only until after Reyna was fully satiated that you discovered the first night was your indoctrination.
Afterward, Reyna would summon you to her room at the dark hours of the night, and every single time, you would go. Pleasing Reyna became an addiction, one that you never wanted to let go of because seeing Reyna in the throes of pleasure was far too beautiful a sight to rid yourself of.
Some nights she would mount your face. Others, she would have you kneel at the foot of the bed with your hands behind your back, like a true supplicant, and make you beg to pleasure her.
You always would.
Why wouldn't you, after all?
She's the Empress, and you're her mere subject.
But nobody knows.
Nobody will know the things that you do in the dark for Reyna. The things you have done for her. The things you will continue to do.
BONUS
Friday nights in the lounge room are always a fun time. Jett, Phoenix, and a few others are playing a nasty game of monopoly that seems to have been running on for weeks, with you as the appointed referee to keep things calm.
In the corner of your eye, you notice the door to the lounge room crack open. A whisper of something that only reaches your ears, followed by a crackling sensation that races up your spine.
Pink eyes stare at you from the dark for a mere moment in time, before disappearing.
Letting out a yawn, you stretch on the couch before standing up. "I'm going to bed, losers. Don't kill each other."
Nobody gives pause to your exit. Phoenix bids you goodnight with a wave of his hands, and Jett steals some paper money from Neon while the latter isn't looking.
You move through the halls until you arrive to the door of Reyna's room. You knock. You enter. You close the door, twist the lock, then fall to your knees.
Footsteps follow, and a warm hand cups your jaw, tilting it upward.
"I've trained you so well, pet." Reyna murmurs. She cocks her head to the side. "Mommy wants to come on your face. Get on the bed."
Without question, you move to the bed.
Reyna flashes you a sharp grin, and you fall prey to her once again.
~~~~~ A/N: can you tell that im a little obsessed with bottom!reyna
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divinegrey · 1 year
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VALORANT VOICELINE HEADCANONS, PT. 3
ASTRA, RAZE, SKYE
welcome to the final installment of valorant voiceline headcanons for the ladies! hope you all enjoy!
warnings: swearing, typical in-game descriptions of violence, gendered language (mostly for raze, i tried to keep it neutral)
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ASTRA
Match Start — "Aye, chale! Don't worry, I'll keep you safe with my stars."
Round Start — "Tell me when to pull them in!" OR — "When you need me, call for me. I will be there for you, as will the stars."
Astra Goes Into Her Astral Form — "Hold onto me really quick, chale. Need to place a few stars to keep them away."
Commend — "You have the power of a nebula! Your eyes are dazzling like one too!"
You Clutch — "Too easy! You were fierce! Congratulations!"
You Ace — "C'mon now, there's your smile! You shine like a thousand stars, love!"
You Get Resurrected — "There you are! Did my ancestors bother you? Hopefully they didn't share any embarrassing stories."
RAZE
Match Start — "Querida! Now I have someone to carry more satchels! *Laughs* I'm kidding, I'm kidding! But... you got any space for more grenades?"
Round Start — "Let's see you try and keep up! Satchel out!"
You Get Multiple Kills — "Easy money, baby! I owe you a dance after this!"
You Assist Raze's Kill — "Thanks for the lift! You and I, we're like fireworks!"
You Get Hurt By The Enemy Raze — "Hey! Watch it! No one touches my bebê! Oh, you're done for!"  
You Get Match MVP — "All those explosions, and you still got first place! Man, I can't keep up!"
You Get Resurrected — "Bring them back, bring them back! Finally! I was getting worried, amor! The party ain't the same without you!"
SKYE
Match Start — "The pack is together again! You and I, sunshine, we're unstoppable!"
Round Start — "You, me, we move together, like a pack. I've got you, okay?"
You Get Healed By Skye — "Right, there you are! Now get back out there! We need you!"
Commend — "You're a beast! I think my tiger's jealous of you!"
You Get A Kill With Skye's Flash — "Ha! They couldn't even see that one coming, mate!" OR — "See? The hawk always works! Good one, love!"
You Ace — "You look like a rightful pack leader in my eyes! Careful now, I think my animals might start following your orders!"
You Get Resurrected — "Shit, there you are. Are you back with me, love? Here, have some more healing. I can't stand seeing you hurt."
~~~~~ A/N: Thank you for reading the final installment for the ladies! i really enjoyed doing these, so let me know if you guys want me to do some more!
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